


The Softness of Night

by quamquam20



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bats, Camping, Cuddling & Snuggling, F/M, Fluff, Food, Innuendo, Jedi Mind Tricks (Star Wars), Panic, Planet Lothal (Star Wars), Post-Star Wars: The Last Jedi, Redeemed Ben Solo, Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-02
Updated: 2020-10-02
Packaged: 2021-03-07 16:41:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,560
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26770810
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quamquam20/pseuds/quamquam20
Summary: A Resistance mission on Lothal takes longer than expected, turning into a night spent under the stars.Reyloween Day 2- Bats“Should we stop?” she asked. They had a few tents and emergency supplies, just in case. Between the rolling mountains or among the strange, conical rocks that jabbed into the sky, they could find shelter. Hunkered down and protected. The alternative was to trail blindly through the night forest in what would be—in all likelihood—the wrong direction. Picked off one-by-one by large carnivores and twisted ankles.“Probably.”Even over the irregular terrain, Ben's strides were long enough to keep him just ahead of her. He didn't slow down.
Relationships: Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Comments: 42
Kudos: 125
Collections: Comfort Gems 2020, Reyloween 2020





	The Softness of Night

**Author's Note:**

> From @faunary's [prompt list!](https://twitter.com/faunary/status/1301256014566580224)  
> 

* * *

Poe ducked as another springy branch whipped back, just missing where his head had been. Again.

“Okay, Rose.” Poe stopped and splayed his fingers with contained frustration. “If you could stop doing that, that would be great.”

Turning around, eyes already rolling, Rose was balanced on a fallen tree. A plate of bark fell from it, kicked loose by her boots.

“If you follow closer, you can just grab them from me like a normal person.”

Ben picked his way around the massive tree trunk, avoiding the deep divots gouged into the forest floor by Empire-era mining equipment. His jacket flapped open and Rey was absolutely not staring at how the leather pulled across the back of his shoulders as he checked the holotrace device on his wrist and pointed to the southeast.

“It's this way.”

Short, clipped, and quiet. Since his defection, it was all she'd heard from him: reminders of their orders, one-word answers. Maybe a mumbled apology if he bumped into her while they all crowded around a holomap. As the strangeness of him being in camp faded, uneasy truces formed. If someone hadn't known any better, they would think he was the taciturn but capable son of General Organa, who kept to himself. And that seemed to suit him just fine.

In fact, the most she had seen him speak was when he was just out of earshot with Leia. Once, Rey had sneaked closer, straining to hear, only to look up and find them both staring at her expectantly. Face blazing, she had hurried off to clean her blaster with more shame-fueled vigor than was really necessary.

Behind her, Kaydel cleared her throat.

“Sorry,” Rey said, shaking her head a little to refocus. Night fell fast in the wilds of Lothal, they'd been told, and they were far from the white spires of Capital City.

She caught up with Ben, bobbing at his side as they hiked. Mentally, she crossed off the topics she'd tried over the past several weeks: the weather, food, droid repair, ship maintenance, jokes, the Force. Once, against her better judgment and with predictable, lackluster results: them. Rey settled on the only safe bet: their current mission.

“Do you think we'll make it there before nightfall?”

“No.”

The warnings had been ominous. Wolves bigger than humans. Pale, swaying lights over swampland. Uncovered mine shafts that plunged down into voids. Sabercats that stalked silently for miles.

The sun glinted, low and orange, between the spine trees. Rey shivered at the new chill in the air.

“Should we stop?” she asked. They had a few tents and emergency supplies, just in case. Between the rolling mountains or among the strange, conical rocks that jabbed into the sky, they could find shelter. Hunkered down and protected. The alternative was to trail blindly through the night forest in what would be—in all likelihood—the wrong direction. Picked off one-by-one by large carnivores and twisted ankles.

“Probably.”

Even over the irregular terrain, Ben's strides were long enough to keep him just ahead of her. He didn't slow down.

“I'm going to ask the others,” Rey offered.

“Great,” Ben said, and the sharp-toothed sarcasm could have come from the mouth of either of his parents. “A committee.” But he stopped.

Rey didn't point out that he obviously preferred to make executive decisions without input—Supreme Council notwithstanding—and that maybe a delicate mission to recruit an isolated but unbelievably well-armed rebel faction wasn't the best time to be doing that. Instead, she addressed the small group clustering loosely around them.

“Who wants to camp?” she asked, grinning.

Rose's hand shot up. Kaydel wrinkled her nose and Finn nodded to her.

“I'm with her. But it's safer.” He slung the canvas pack off of his shoulder and uncapped his canteen to take a sip.

Already, night insects trilled and buzzed in the underbrush.

Poe pulled out a datapad, and tapped a few times.

“There should be a river up ahead. About half an hour.”

“No rivers,” Ben interjected. When they looked at him, he continued. “Draws predators.”

“Alright.” Poe frowned. “Cave system just to the west.”

They stood in a small clearing, on a thick bed of fragrant spine tree needles. Sheltered by mountain ridges, they would have a clear view of anything approaching along the valley.

“What about right here?” Rey said.

Poe shrugged. “Looks good to me. I'll send our location to Leia and let her know we're stopping.”

Leia had gone back and forth on the riskiness of sending them all together but after much discussion, decided that the mission required all hands on deck. Still, she wanted frequent updates and Rey couldn't help but notice a mischievous sparkle in the general's eyes as she'd waved goodbye to them from the landing pad, shrinking into the distance as their ship gained altitude. She'd mentioned to Rey in passing that Lothal was a Force-aligned, healed planet, once war-torn and stripped of resources, now fighting to keep its independence.

With the efficiency of ample practice, the group unfurled two durasilk tents and had one erected in short minutes. The simple work kept Rey's hands occupied, at least, even as her mind turned over the same smooth stones it always did.

“Can we skip the creepy stories tonight?” Kaydel asked as she unscrewed a telescoping tent pole for the second structure, pulling Rey out of her reverie. “This place freaks me out already.”

“Yeah, I feel like we're being watched,” Finn agreed, earning a shudder and a glare from Kaydel. “We're looking for a group called the Spectres, after all. And they name their ships stuff like _Ghost_ and _Phantom_.”

“And if we could _not_ say things like that.”

“It'll be fine,” Rose said, taking a break from counting out tent stakes to give Kaydel a reassuring nudge with her elbow. “We've got Rey to protect us.”

Grinning, Poe pointed his chin at Finn.

“Hey, and this guy.”

“This guy's going to be asleep if he can help it,” Finn said. “And ignoring weird animal sounds all night.”

He tossed his sleeping bag into the finished tent to give it time to self inflate and warm up.

“We'll sleep in shifts,” Rey said, unrolling hers next to Finn's. “And keep watch in pairs.”

The safest option. And there was an even number in their party. It was only when she felt everyone's eyes on her that she realized that someone would have to stay with Ben. And nobody particularly relished the idea of a night interrupted to stand in a forest with the former Supreme Leader of the First Order.

“Ben and I will each take a watch so you can all sleep a little more,” she said, nodding to Ben, who was fixated on something in the distance.

Problem solved. And Ben didn't seem bothered.

“You sure?” Finn asked her—only her—his eyebrows drawing together in concern as he walked over.

“Yeah.”

Rose held a hand out to stop the conversation.

“You guys hear something?”

Mid-swing, Poe stopped hammering in a tent stake to listen.

Through the trees. Rey sensed it more than she heard it. Something billowing and inevitable.

A swirling vortex, a strange breeze. Agile darting in the dusky night sky. A quiet swarm, only the rustling flutter of thousands of wings and barely audible squeaking chirps. Rivers of them, rushing out above the treetops.

Kaydel's breathing was too fast, escaping in ever-shortening huffs. Her panic splintered out through the Force. Like her feet were locked to the ground, she stayed, helpless.

A wave of calm, lulling and safe, spread over Rey. Her shoulders relaxed in a contented slump as she watched the silhouettes of speed-blurred wings and small bodies stream overhead. She found herself smiling.

Beside her, Finn leaned in.

“Are you doing that?” he asked her quietly.

She pointed up at the gap in the canopy.

“They're bats,” she explained.

“No, Rey. The...” In the fading light, he wiggled his fingers. “Thing.”

“Oh.”

It seemed obvious, after he said it. The tranquility was too sudden, too complete, to be her own. She'd been so caught up she hadn't noticed that Kaydel was watching now, too, gesturing delightedly as she speculated with Poe and Rose about where the bats roosted during the day. All traces of fear gone.

“No, it's not me,” she said.

Ben stood alone, studying the sky. The holotracer's display glowed green on his wrist. Nothing in his easy posture or soft expression betrayed the effort.

Feeling her eyes on him, Ben glanced over.

Rey became very interested in the ration bar she'd stashed in her pocket, making a show of struggling with the wrapper.

* * *

Kaydel and Poe had the first watch, eager to get it over with. Finn and Rose would take the last shift, leaving Ben and Rey to separately cover the middle of the night.

As Rey climbed into her sleeping bag, she thought of Ben, crammed into the corner of the second tent. Well away from Kaydel and Rose's clustered beds. Of all the members of their group, they were the ones who tolerated him the most. A reckless part of Rey imagined sharing a tent with him, of listening for his slowing breathing and matching hers to it. Of hoping that the Force, in their closeness, could drag them into the other's dreams. But as soon as she wanted that, it felt forbidden. An intimacy that belonged to people not carrying lightsabers and yearnings that should stay unvoiced.

Still, she wondered what he thought of to fall asleep.

“All clear?” Finn asked from the other side of the tent's flap.

“Yeah.” A loose tunic and pants to sleep, cast-off breast band stuffed into her pack. Her overwrap was balled up beside her on the tent floor so she wouldn't forget it in the chilly night. “Don't worry about an alarm. I'll wake you and Rose up when I'm done.”

Finn nodded through his yawn. “Yeah, sounds good.”

“How far away do you think their camp is?” Rey flipped over to give Finn privacy and facing the tent's outer wall muffled her voice. They'd done this so many times, it was second nature. In her sleeping bag, a wrapper crinkled against her hip.

“A few hours. Do you have a ration pack in your bed again?”

“I might get hungry,” Rey said defensively, pushing her untied hair back from her face.

“Or you might get eaten by a bear.”

Rey scoffed. “There aren't any bears on Lothal.”

“Are you sure?” The zipper on Finn's sleeping bag rattled. “Because I didn't think there would be bats.”

“No bears. Just wolves.”

“Perfect,” Finn said pointedly. “That's _great_. 'Night, Rey.”

She switched sides so she could smile at him in the near-dark.

“'Night, Finn.”

* * *

Rey's chrono beeped against her face. Disoriented, she lifted her cheek to check the time. It couldn't be right. She'd just drifted off and, despite being a light sleeper, hadn't even heard Poe come back.

But the neon-bright numbers didn't lie, and Poe was a snoring lump in his sleeping bag.

Stretching, she did her best to stifle a miserable groan. Carefully easing the zipper down so it wouldn't be too loud, Rey hissed when the cool air hit her. She snatched the ration pack and her overwrap, and heart racing with something strangely close to adrenaline, she felt around for the hilt of her lightsaber before picking her way over to the tent's door.

Quiet and hunched, she slid her feet into her boots and stepped out onto the crunching pine needles. And then came the part she really wasn't looking forward to: an awkward, whispered conversation with Ben to relieve his watch. To cut down on time spent wandering around, checking behind each tree for a bored man, Rey reached out with the Force and followed the shine of him to the far edge of the clearing. They hadn't been truly alone since he arrived, and maybe that was the odd nervousness that fluttered as she approached the figure leaning against a tree trunk, tucking her lightsaber into the waistband of her pants.

“Hey,” he said. More relaxed than bored, like remembering how to speak after a long time spent alone took some effort. A habit forgotten, but easily picked up again for her. She felt him in her body, a hum when she got close.

“Hey.” Rey winced at the sleep-rasped breathiness of her voice, but he didn't seem to mind.

“I can cover your shift,” he offered.

“No, it's fine.” She dropped the ration pack onto the ground with finality, like marking a place with food was how she claimed it. Which wasn't far from the truth.

Ben pushed off from the tree before reaching down and tipping a sealed thermocan from side to side, sloshing the contents.

“Want some caf?”

_That_ was the rich, lingering smell that hung in the air. Still disoriented from being ripped out of a forgotten dream, she hadn't been able to place it.

“Yes, please,” she said, readjusting her overwrap so it wouldn't keep slipping down her shoulders.

Aside from a metallic clank, then a liquid pour, the only sound was the steady chirping of crickbeets.

“Don't you want to sleep?” Rey asked. He made no move to leave; just passed the caf to her. Fragrant steam rose from the thick-walled cup clasped between her hands.

“I had too much of that,” he said, nodding to the thermocan. Maybe it was an excuse, but Rey didn't mind. Company always made keeping watch easier, even if everything between them was riddled with new tension. It would still help the time pass.

So she eased down onto the ground, crossed her legs underneath her, and settled in. To relieve the pinch of the lightsaber hilt against her, she pulled it out and set it down, keeping it close out of habit.

The first slurped sip of hot caf danced across her tongue, sugared and strong. Balanced bitterness. She smacked her lips.

“It’s good.”

“Thanks.”

Atmosphere-flickered stars winked above them. A few planets, tinted and pinpoint bright, peppered the streaked haze of clustered stars. One of Lothal's two moons shone low from the eastern sky, just visible above the treeline.

The fact that Ben, outlined in moonlight, stood next to where she sat was suddenly a miracle, and Rey wasn't sure she could ever stop being amazed that a desperate path had such a quiet destination.

“I don't know how to act around you,” Ben said, inspecting the sky like he wasn't speaking to her, to make saying it easier. Like keeping her at arm's length didn't leave her confused and hurt, and shuffling past her in corridors like they were strangers didn't make her wonder if she had misread something enormous.

“Well, not like you have been,” Rey said, exasperated.

He stepped away, to give her space by pulling back.

“No.” She reached out to stop him, to fix it, her touch light on his leg. “Right now is good.”

He froze, and maybe she was just making everything worse.

“Unless you don't like it,” she finished.

And the pause stretched out and out and Rey might have been holding her breath.  
  
“I like it.”

Ben hesitated, then lowered himself to the ground beside her. Legs folded and he was still huge in the darkness as he leaned back.

The caf had cooled slightly, and she drained it with small gulps, giving herself time to think.

In all of the things she'd tried to talk about, she had never asked him why. Why he left and found the Resistance. Why he stayed. Arrogant enough to think that it might be about her, just a little, but too afraid of the sinking disappointment that would come when he said he'd simply had a private change of heart, or that Luke's stubborn spirit had vowed to haunt him ceaselessly until he turned back to the light. Or that he didn't need a reason to fight beside his mother, or the bickering of the First Order had just given him one too many headaches. So she wouldn't ask that. But something close.

“Is it hard being here?” A meteor streaked across the sky, a thin flash before it was gone. “With us.”

“It's easier being on the same side as you.” His knee bumped hers and, not sure if it was an accident or not, Rey ignored it. Refusing to read too much into his answer, she dug her fingers through the dry spine tree needles matted on the ground next to her. Long and thin and flexible from the damp night air, they threaded and laced.

Picking a single strand up, Rey rolled it between her finger. She watched the end twirl.

“Why does the Force keep trying to connect us?” she asked. Blocked by one or, more often, both of them. Any time they were in different places, even just in adjacent rooms. Once, horribly and to both of their disbelieving surprise, when they were in the same meeting. Guards down because surely— _surely—_ they would be safe sitting five chairs apart, focused on the same damage report. But Rey had looked up to see his wide eyes and parted lips directly in front of her, no sound left but an echo. Then his huffed, incredulous laugh. A shake of his head before he left the room and the connection cut out.

“Probably some unsaid things.” Speculation, but he sounded certain in a way that made her skin tingle.

She spun the tree's needle faster, until the tip of it was a blur.

“Like what?” Her tongue was clumsy.

Ben found a fresh leaf, newly fallen. Absently, he held it by the stem and traced the veins that forked on the underside.

“Like that I made a lot of mistakes,” he said. “Some of them with you.”

The words landed heavier than they were, weighted with significance. Things he had done and regretted; things he wished he had done. She wanted to know.

Rey missed him, she realized. Not Kylo, of course. But their once-closeness, as brief and painful as it had been. Outstretched hands and tentative hope. In a terrible way, she longed to be in his mind again. She'd intruded, to retaliate, but the indescribable familiarity of it had felt like home.

He pressed his knee to hers. Not a maybe-accident like before: he kept it there. Every part of her body seemed to align with the small place where he was against her. He flicked the leaf away, sending it fluttering out in front of them, and let his hand rest loosely on his knee.

Even with a cool breeze, her cheeks were warm as she watched his fingers out of the corner of her eye. Almost imperceptible movements: the twitch of a tendon, the flexion of a knuckle. It shouldn't be difficult. She'd done it before. Didn't even have to gaze into his eyes this time, or cry. But she knew it would work. There was no chance of her passing through him, disappointed and isolated, on the other side of the galaxy.

Rey brought her hand to her own knee, just a sliver of space between them. When she swallowed, it was deafening. A tiny uncurling of her pinky, then stretching it over to him. She couldn't look or she would lose her nerve, so she let her eyes focus on the dark forest beyond the clearing as she reached with her finger, and slowly rested it against his. A heartbeat later, he wrapped his pinky finger around hers and her lungs felt too small for all the air she needed. The touch felt like it was everywhere. Impossible, but he enveloped, calloused and bigger than her and with his own heat.

Beneath his touch, she unhooked so she could roll her hand over, palm up. He didn't interlace. Just traced the lines like she was another leaf. Smudged the pads of his fingers along her thumb, then over the inside of her wrist, ticklingly light, before stroking the length of each of her fingers. She was effervescent.

Some kind of ease, long-dormant in her belly, unfurled. There were no visions. No struggle within her of how to help him or how to get to him. He was already beside her. A little shuffling, a little leaning, and Rey rested her head against his muscle-rounded shoulder. It was both too sudden and entirely too long coming.  
  
Quiet, companionable and right, draped over them. Rey wished she could give this memory to her past self, to show her that it was worth it.

“The bats are back,” she said, pointing to the first returning shadows darting through gaps in the treetops. “I thought they'd be gone all night.”

Ben hummed in agreement, brushing his cheek against the top of her head.

“They have to feed their babies,” he said.

She was about to ask how he knew, but she could almost see the glimmering tethers in the Force. Winding through trees before streaming into the hidden mouth of the cave. Bonded care and life-giving concern. They would cross mountains and distant plains, flying to the brink of exhaustion, just to come back. Just to find the one other that was theirs.

There was a net like that between her and Ben. Hundreds of little connections between parts of him and parts of her. She'd known for a while, hating how despair had stretched the threads almost to breaking. But since he had arrived, drained and chased, they had started to re-form. Slowly but stronger. And now, elastic, they snapped her to him.

She wasn't afraid of it anymore. Rey maneuvered herself into his lap, crawling until she sat on the forest floor, his legs on either side of her with easy bends at the knees. With him, she was anticipated. Movements adjusted and met by someone who knew exactly how she fought. The limits of her body and the boundaries of her. They could learn this all again.

Not quite caged by his limbs, she felt surrounded by him. His palm rested soothingly on her shoulder, squeezing a little. When she sighed open, his thumbs circled.

He was safe harbors that she could find in storms.

“Leia came to Lothal once, didn't she?” Rey asked, needing to fill the silence. Maybe a little concerned about their privacy, and how simple it would be to vanish into forest shadows and get their clothes out of the way and move fast. Ben had reservoirs of patience, though, and if he found it a strange time for her to bring up his mother, he didn't falter.

“Yeah, years ago. There was an Imperial blockade, and Lothal has a long history of rebellion. She was here on a humanitarian mission to deliver supplies, but of course there was more to it than that.”

Rey grinned, tipping her head back until she was propped up against him. His voice vibrated.

“That sounds like her,” she said, amused.

“I think the Spectres will be expecting us tomorrow,” he said quietly before he brushed her loose hair back from her neck, and nuzzled just behind her ear. Arms wrapped around her, and it all sent goosebumps tingling over her. It was so easy for him, like they'd done it a thousand times. Her mouth was dry.

Rey's chrono went off, and she hurried to silence it. The end of her shift.

“I'm not going to wake them up,” she said. Only a couple of hours from daybreak, she could manage.

“Yeah, stay here with me,” he agreed, wriggling to get even closer. “You smell good.”

Rey snorted a laugh at that.

“Like...” He sniffed hard, making her twist away from him, laughing helplessly and instinctively dropping her chin and lifting her shoulder to protect her neck. “Syrup.”

“It's the caf,” she said, recovering. Breathless and happy when she flopped back against him.

“No, it's you.”

She turned to push her nose to his neck. A deep inhale to sample him.

Caf and soap and lickable skin.

Her lips pressed and his answering sigh was content, but with an edge of something that she could stoke. Soon, she decided. She would let it burn them down, over and over, until they were cinders.

But not yet. There were so many ways to touch him, first. Ways for him to hold her and say her name.

She curled into him, yawning. Just a quick rest for her eyes, that was all. An insect creaked in the distance, lulling and low.

The caf would kick in soon.

* * *

Someone cleared their throat.

Rey stirred and grimaced against the too-bright light. Drool trailed from the corner of her mouth and she wiped at it blindly. The pillow beneath her cheek was painfully firm. And it was moving.

She grumbled, pushing it away and stretching her arms out in front of her. Her legs were stuck under something heavy. It moved, too. And so did the broad solidness all along her back.

Her eyes flew open. The expressions that greeted her ranged from undisguised alarm to wicked amusement.

She scrambled to sit up, her clothes covered in crushed dry leaves from the forest floor. Where she had somehow ended up, tangled with Ben Solo.

“I'm guessing the whole 'separate watches' thing didn't work out?” Poe said. Rose clamped her lips together against a smile, but her shoulders shook with laughter.

Keeping her hand low, Kaydel gave Rey a thumbs up and a small nod of conspiratorial approval.

“The bats came back,” Rey said conversationally as she tied up her messy hair, trying to distract them from the fact that Ben's arm was snaking around her waist to try to pull her back down.

“That's really fascinating, Rey,” Poe said with feigned interest. “Anything else?”

“Loth-wolves,” Ben said as he sat up. He rubbed his face as he yawned, seemingly unaware that everyone was staring at him, stunned. “They were just passing by, though.”

“Oh, well, in _that_ case,” Finn said. “Nothing to worry about.”

Rey reached for her ration pack and tore it open. She hadn't seen any wolves, and it must have happened before she joined him or after she'd fallen asleep. She chewed nervously, embarrassment already forgotten.

“Not usually,” Ben said, pouring a cup of caf from the thermocan. “They're part of the Force here. They can speak Basic, too.”

Poe's mouth hung open for a moment before he turned to Rey.

“What did you do to this guy?”

Rey gave her ration pack a shake, offering it to Ben. He passed the caf to her in an effortless, wordless trade.

“He's right,” she said. “And that's none of your business, Poe.”

Beside her, Ben turned his laugh into a cough.

They would break camp soon, pack up, and find the Spectres by late morning. After a few tense moments at the end of pointed weapons, they would begin the work of diplomacy and planning, and leave with a few more people than they had arrived with. The planet would become a solid foothold for the Resistance, wild and lush and far from the First Order. And it would forever remain, to her, the place where things had started.

But, for now, Rey just grinned over at Ben and took another sip of caf.


End file.
